Absolution | +18

Chapter 42

Val

I woke up to the sensation of my head pounding, each throb sending a wave of pain through my skull. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. My mouth was dry, and the taste of last night's alcohol still clung to my tongue like regret. God, I drank way too much.

Forcing my eyes open, I blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains. My vision adjusted slowly, and that's when I saw him. Silas. He was lying beside me, his chest rising and falling steadily, his features softened in sleep. The usual hardened lines of his jaw were relaxed, making him look almost peaceful, vulnerable in a way I rarely saw.

For a moment, I just watched him—his dark lashes fanning against his cheeks, the way his lips parted slightly as he exhaled. He looked so different when he slept. Like the weight of whatever burden he carried had momentarily been lifted. He looks human, I thought with a wry smile.

But the longer I stared, the more a nagging thought started to creep in. I realized that despite all the time we'd spent together—despite the tension, the anger, and whatever this pull between us was—I didn't really know him. Not truly. I knew about my pain, my past, my struggles, but I had no idea what haunted Silas. What had made him into the guarded, brooding man who was now lying in bed.

I'd been so caught up in everything happening with me—my nightmares, my memories, the chaos of it all—that I hadn't thought to ask him about his past. What are your demons, Silas? The question lingered, unspoken, as I trailed my fingers gently down his chest. His skin was warm beneath my touch, his muscles firm, and I couldn't help but let my fingers trace the intricate designs inked into his body.

Each tattoo seemed like it held a story—secrets etched into his skin that I knew nothing about. I followed the dark lines of a serpent coiling around his ribs, admiring the detail, the way the scales looked so lifelike. My fingers drifted lower, grazing over more tattoos, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Silas.

Suddenly, I felt something hard press against my stomach, interrupting my thoughts. My eyes widened as realization dawned, heat flooding my cheeks.

"Silas..." I muttered, my voice rough with embarrassment as I shifted slightly.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and I looked up to see his eyes half-open, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. He leaned in and placed a kiss on my forehead, his breath warm against my skin. "You're the one touching me," he murmured, voice deep and teasing, his grin widening.

I couldn't help but flush more, pulling my hand back. I sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair as I tried to shake off the grogginess still clouding my head. My memories of the night before were a blur, flashes of laughter, drinks, and then... nothing. I rubbed my temples, trying to piece it together.

"What... what happened last night?" I asked, squinting down at him. "I don't remember much."

Silas raised an eyebrow, his expression serious—too serious. "You don't remember?" he said slowly, sitting up beside me, his eyes scanning my face. "You were a total menace."

I frowned, wracking my brain. "What do you mean? What did I do?"

"Well, let's see," he began, clearly trying to hold back a smile. "You hit me—twice, actually. Then you pinned me down, rambling on about how you could take me in a fight. It was relentless."

My jaw dropped, my hands flying to my mouth in horror. "No way," I whispered, mortified. "I didn't... I wouldn't... Oh my god, Silas, I am so sorry." I bent forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, guilt washing over me in waves. "I'm so sorry," I repeated, my voice muffled against his skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you!"